I loved it that he thought of them as granddaughters.
Not singular.
I did not share that in the moment.
I nodded.
He suddenly sat straight, disengaging my hands and stating irately, “This is bloody worst fucking day since my first fucking wife died.”
I drew breath in my nose and stayed silent.
“And I live with Gallienus,” he went on. “So, no day is a good bloody day.”
“Have you spoken to your father?” I queried carefully.
“He denies knowing anything about the insurgency. He also lies.”
Undoubtedly, he did.
I bit my lip in order to bite my tongue.
He reached out, pulled me up so I had no choice but to take my feet and then he wrapped his arms around my hips, pulling me between his thighs and shoving his face in my ribs.
I stared down at his shorn hair, my hands out beside me, stunned motionless and unsure what to do.
There was a vulnerability to this.
Cassius Laird, fearsome general, heir to the throne of a tyrannical nation, was showing me vulnerability.
He’d lost a man, and he was hurting.
He was riding with his woman at his side to uncertainty, but certain danger, the outcome of which could no longer be assured, for who knew now what Aramus and Mars would do, knowing this Rising was sweeping all lands and just how far they intended to go to make whatever message they wished to make.
But True could not ride with him and that was certain.
Cass had undoubtedly just watched hours of torture.
His father was plotting against him.
And he’d come back to the castle, stretched out on a bed with two little girls, and read them a bedtime story.
I suddenly knew what to do and that was to smooth my hands over his hair.
In response, he shoved his face deeper into my flesh.
I wrapped the fingers of both hands around the back of his neck and whispered, “What can I do?”
There was no hesitation before his reply.
“You’re doing it.”
That felt…
It felt…
Beautiful.
But it was not enough.
I put my hands to his cheeks again and pulled him away, tipping his face up to me as I did.
I then bent to him and pressed my lips to his.
They opened.
I slid my tongue inside.
When I did, Cassius fell back, taking me with him, then rolling so he was atop me.
My part, I found just then, was done.
He took over.
And what he did was what I would assume he intended to do the first time we joined.
It was slow.
Very.
It was reverent.
Startlingly.
And it was life-altering.
Completely.
And much time after it began, as his finger rolled my clit while his now midnight eyes stared into mine, and he slowly moved in and out of me, the room around us taken over by night and blanketed with stars, my head arched back, and I climaxed magnificently on a silent moan.
Not long after, when the strength and velocity of his thrusts increased, he did the same, but I heard his deep sigh in my ear when he did.
As usual, when he was done, he nearly instantly rearranged us, so I was on top.
This, I figured he did so I did not have to bear his weight.
This, I knew he did so his hands could roam my bare skin.
What they were doing now.
“Apparently, we can make love silently,” I muttered.
I felt his lips move where they were caressing my neck and I hoped it was in a smile.
“We’re going to be all right, Cass,” I promised.
His lips stopped moving altogether.
“The girls are going to be all right. It’s all going to be all right.”
He let his head fall to the mattress.
“We’ll all be all right,” I finished when I caught his eyes.
“I have never been all right, my lamb.”
Goddess, I hated that.
Hated it.
I gave him a soft smile while tugging on his beard and saying, “Well then, that time is nigh, don’t you think?”
He did not look convinced.
But he still said, “Yes.”
And in that moment, with that single word, I knew precisely why he said this.
Precisely why he did anything he did.
Because in that moment, I knew him.
He read bedtime stories.
And he knew Aelia loved chocolate pots.
He also knew, if Dora told him she was too old for stories, he should not press that.
Further, even if his woman was a warrior, if he thought she was in danger, he took hold of her and carried her from a battle in order get her as far away from that danger as he could manage.
Because Cassius Laird, Prince Regent of Airen, had lived for one thing before, it was just that that one thing was now plural.
He lived to take care of his girls.
86
The Revelation
King Mars
Approaching the Mouth of the Stairwell of the Northwestern Turret
Birchlire Castle, Notting Thicket
WODELL
Mars was not in a good mood.
There were many reasons for this.
The current one, however, was that he could not find his wife.
She was not in their rooms.
She was not in any rooms in the northwestern turret.
And his palace in Fire City was large, but this castle was monstrous.
He did not fancy searching the hundreds of rooms in it to find his queen.
He fancied disrobing his wife, making love to her, then falling asleep so this loathsome day could be at an end.
“Good, there you are.”
He heard these words when he’d descended the last step to the turret and turned around its corner, a corner that hid the mouth of the stairwell from the hall.
Ridiculous.
Offensively, you could not descend that stairwell and know what was in the hall below you.
Defensively, you could not turn and aim at it if it was chasing you.
Though you could hide behind it.
And it did not surprise him such was designed by King Wilmer’s forebears.
He could not think on that in the now.
For his day just got worse, as impossible as that was for Mars to believe.
Because he apparently was going to have a confrontation with Silence’s father, who they had, until that very moment, successfully avoided since Johan and Vanka followed them from the Arbor to Notting Thicket.
“I’m in no mood, Johan,” he declared, not breaking stride, intent to move right past him.
“I’ll take my treasure now,” Johan said by way of retort.
Mars stopped as he came parallel, turned his head and looked down at the man.
“I’m sorry?”
“You said, in Fire City, that if I were to leave my daughter to her own life, the life she now has with you, that you would shower me with treasure,” Johan explained. “I’ve decided I will happily do that. Therefore, you can have those chests of gems and coins you promised me sent directly to Bower Manor.”
“I’m not providing you that treasure,” Mars informed him.
“You bloody are,” Johan spat.
Mars grew silent and stared down at him, making an effort to control his impatience.
It was then he smelled her.
Indeed, he fancied he could smell her perfume from ten kilometers away.
Not because it was strong.
But because it was hers.
Freesias.
His wife approached.
And not only could she shadow herself so others around her could not see (and she’d demonstrated this to him, even if he could always see her, he’d been in awe that ot
hers could not), she also informed him she could hear exceptionally well.
She’d further demonstrated that.
She’d make an excellent spy.
Though that would not ever happen.
“As I said, I’m in no mood, Johan,” he repeated.
“I don’t care what mood you’re in,” Johan returned.
“And you must trust me, you do not wish to discuss it now either,” Mars advised.
“I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you and considering you’re a mammoth lurch, I couldn’t even lift you.”
Mars took no offense to the insult. He cared not what this man thought of him.
However, that did not mean he did not have reason to pause.
He had told his queen that he intended to see to it that her father left her and the family they were going to make in peace.
Therefore, he had no issue on his behalf with her hearing what might come next.
That said, he had grave issues on her behalf of what she might hear, even if he thought that she should hear it and understand precisely what kind of man her father was.
He just did not think that now, after she’d lost her aunt, and all the events of the day, it was the time for it.
“I’m telling you, this is not the time,” Mars said low.
“A pouch of rubies. Chests of emeralds. Chests of coin,” Johan droned. “That was what you said you’d pay me to step out of the life of my daughter.”
Mars glanced at her as she was now walking down the hall, but she stopped when she heard her father’s words.
He also noted that Johan had not realized she was there.
Mars made a decision, and thus, did not share with her father that she was.
He turned fully to the man and crossed his arms on his chest. “I did indeed say this. However, you did not do that. You played with her heart. You tried to undermine our very new marriage and drive us apart. Therefore, you can consider that offer rescinded.”
“I won’t allow you to rescind it,” Johan fired back.
“It is not your choice.”
Mars did not like the look on Johan’s face, or the sneer on his lips, before Johan opened his mouth to speak.
“Johan, stop!”
Mars turned.
Silence turned.
Johan turned.
And all saw Vanka racing up the hall behind Silence toward Mars and Johan.
She shot a nervous look her daughter’s way as she dashed by her and made her husband.
Johan was staring at Silence even as his wife curled both her hands around his arm.
“So now you know he tried to bribe me to keep me out of your life,” Johan said to Silence.
“Johan, it’s been a trying day, let’s just go to bed,” Vanka urged.
Mars narrowed his eyes on Silence’s mother.
“I know it, Father,” Silence replied, and he could tell by her voice she was moving toward them. “Mars told me he was going to do it.”
“And I refused, and you still treated me in the manner you treated me at Cord Cottage?” Johan asked, sounding outraged.
When she was in arm’s reach, Mars reached.
He then tucked his wee wife close to his side and he did this as she said to her father, “I treated you in the manner you were treated at the cottage because you were treating me in a very certain manner at the cottage.”
“Don’t talk in riddles,” Johan snapped at her.
“I understood her,” Mars stated calmly. What was not calm was when he finished, “And do not ever address my queen in that tone again.”
Johan looked so angry, he could do something very foolish, like charge his much larger and much younger son-in-law.
“Johan, everyone’s tempers are frayed after today’s events. Please, my dearest, let us go to bed,” Vanka begged.
“I’ll not be going anywhere until I’m assured I’ll have my treasure,” Johan said to his wife, but he did it scowling at Mars.
“Please, my love, please—” she kept trying.
“This conversation is moot. I’ll not be paying that treasure and I’ll not be saying it again that I won’t,” Mars returned.
Johan looked to his daughter with such hate, Mars immediately shifted her mostly behind him just as his gut seized.
Bloody hell.
Where did that come from?
Johan then looked up to him and whispered viciously, “Oh, you’ll pay it.”
“Johan,” Vanka pleaded, now tugging on his arm in what appeared to be an effort to drag him away.
Mars shifted abruptly and looked down at his queen.
“Go to our chambers, amore,” he ordered.
Silence blinked up at him. “But, Mars, I’m all—”
“I need you to go.”
“Yes, Silence, go,” Vanka encouraged, sounding desperate, even frantic.
Fuck.
Johan came around to their sides. “No, my dearest daughter,” he said with sham adoration in his voice, “please stay.”
Silence looked to her father, her head tipping to the side, her brows inching together.
Mars put a gentle hand to her cheek and forced her gaze back to his.
“Please, my wife, I beg of you, go to our chambers,” he urged.
“Ha!” Johan hooted. “I made you beg. There it is. I bloody made you beg.”
Mars shifted only his eyes to the side without moving his head.
Johan’s gleeful expression faltered, and he took a step back.
“Mars,” Silence called uncertainly.
He looked again to his wife.
“Go.”
“What’s happening?”
“Later,” he bit out, trying to go gently, and unfortunately not quite succeeding. “Now, please, my Silence, go.”
She studied him a long moment before nodding.
She looked to her father, to her mother who was again at her sire’s side, and then to Mars.
“I’ll meet you in our chambers,” she said tremulously.
“I won’t be long,” he promised.
She nodded again, rolled up on her toes, Mars bent down, and she touched her lips to his.
She then lifted those long, Dellish skirts of hers and dashed away from him and up the steps.
He turned to his wife’s parents and Johan was already opening his mouth.
“You won’t speak until I give you leave to do so,” he commanded.
“I’ll speak when I bloody—”
Vanka emitted a strangled scream as Mars wrapped his hand around Johan’s throat and squeezed.
He then bent his face to Johan’s.
“You…won’t…speak until I give you leave,” he repeated.
When Johan’s face started to get red, Mars released him and walked around the both of them.
He felt them following, sensing them rushing to keep up with his long strides, but he did not slow.
He made it to the end of the long hall, turned to them and assessed the distance.
He could not see Silence if she was hiding at the bottom of those bloody stairs.
He could only hope that hall was long enough they were too far away for her to hear whatever was said next should she be listening.
Johan and Vanka caught up with him, Vanka practically being dragged as she tried to stop her husband from finishing his approach.
Her face was agonized.
Fuck.
“Don’t do this, Johan,” she pleaded when the man stopped before Mars.
“Let me go,” he snapped, shaking his arm.
She tugged on it. “Please, Johan.”
“Bloody let me go!” he shouted, whipping around, and Vanka whipped with him, slamming into the wall.
Mars heard blood roaring in his ears.
That was it.
Enough.
Mars again took Silence’s father by the throat, and it was Mars doing the slamming against a wall.
Johan emitted a grunt of surprise.
He then g
lowered up at Mars who had a firm hold on him, but this time he didn’t squeeze.
“Release me,” Johan demanded.
“Say your words and be done with it,” Mars ordered.
“Release me!”
“You are not her father.”
Johan’s head jerked, not in offense, in surprise that Mars guessed accurately what this was about.
Vanka emitted a long whine.
Yes. He was accurate.
His queen’s beautiful petite frame, ebony hair, pale skin, silver eyes.
She looked nothing like either of these people.
Even the mother.
“Bloody hell,” Mars murmured. “Why didn’t I see it?”
“Unhand me!” Johan yelled.
Mars let him go and took a step back.
Johan tugged his waistcoat down, then flapped his jacket more firmly on his chest, all this glaring at Mars.
“If you don’t wish her to know, you’ll pay me,” he shared.
“And we don’t,” Vanka rushed in to say. “We all don’t wish her to know.”
“You need to keep your mouth shut,” Johan snapped at his wife.
“Well, we don’t, we don’t wish—” Vanka stated.
“You don’t,” Johan retorted to his wife. “I no longer give a damn.”
“She is Countess of the Arbor,” Vanka reminded him. “She’s yours in all but—”
“What counts,” Johan spat. “Blood. I’m married to a fucking whore. You opened your legs—”
Vanka’s face lost all color. “But you wanted a child so badly, my love, and we weren’t—”
“I didn’t want you to fuck that horrid man to give me one!” he shouted. “I told you to find someone worthy. You did not find someone worthy!”
“Quiet down,” Mars growled.
Johan jerked his gaze to Mars. “I’ll do what I want.”
“And I will as well, including finding ways to keep you quiet that you will not like,” Mars warned. “So quiet down.”
Johan shook his head repeatedly while inclining his neck, making a pompous movement all the more pretentious.
“You told me you needed an heir,” Vanka whispered, broken. “You told me to—”
“You didn’t choose very well because we got strapped with Silence,” Johan retorted.
Vanka continued to whisper. “I’m not a whore. You told me—”
The Dawn of the End (The Rising Book 3) Page 5
